


Realization

by Nicowafer



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicowafer/pseuds/Nicowafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tintin realizes that his feelings for the Captain my be more than just friendly...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tintin

His palms were sweaty; nerves were getting the better of him. This was indeed the most trying encounter he'd ever had. Gangs of thugs, master minds, thieves, all this Tintin could handle easily and without his heart falling into his stomach. A pretty lady was turning out to be his Achilles' heel.

It wasn't as if he loved her, far from it, he wanted this date to end as quickly as possible. He wasn't even sure how he had ended up alone with the blonde at this cafe'. She was beautiful, Tintin noted, as she gazed at him longingly, heaping praise on his adventures and articles in a fashion that indicated she admired the journalist far more than his writings. Any man would consider himself in the best of company, any man but Tintin.

This situation was new to him, being a lone with a girl of his own age, a girl that others would find interesting, but of whom he cared little for in a romantic sense. Tintin was a kindhearted individual and that made rejecting her all the more difficult. He wanted to like her, his nature indicating he should be kind and social to her, please her. But he couldn't find an attraction to her. He could not fancy her the same way she seemed to be fancying him. He wondered why he could not find the feeling. It was obvious that he SHOULD be attracted to her. She was funny and interesting, a recent graduate of a prestigious college where she had majored in English literature. She was attracted to him and this disturbed him to his core. He realized what this was meant to be; all planned carefully by the girl's mother. It was only to be dinner with the girl and her family, now suddenly he was alone with the young lady and he wasn't quite sure what to do. His hands folded politely in his lap as he nodded along with her conversation, even as her own hand lay on the table waiting to be grasped by his, her form, thin and lithe leaning across the table in interest.

“Am I boring you, Mr. Tintin?” The bite in her voice had awoken Tintin from his thoughts. He blinked at her in surprise; apparently he had missed a question.

“Oh, no, Miss. DeLise, however, I should say that...well...I think your mother may of made a mistake.” The young woman seemed to not understand and Tintin himself was having a hard time explaining it to her. 

“I...I am not interested in a romantic relationship. Not that you aren't a very nice girl. It's just...I thought we were having dinner with your family.” The father in particular had been his aim, for her father was a leading member of an archaeological team and Tintin was trying to catch the story of his latest expedition. The girl blushed brightly. For a second he had thought he got it wrong, Tintin, mystery solver extraordinaire. However, when the girl seemed to sigh and look at the table sadly he knew the idea of romance had been on her mind. He patted her hand with caution in a friendly manner.

“At all, or just with me?” The girl commented scornfully, the color rising even more in her cheeks. Tintin's own cheeks reddened at that. He knew the answer; of course he wanted romance, some day with the right person. But who would the right person be? Certainly not this girl. He had never felt comfortable around the women that would flirt with him, that found him attractive. He was a confirmed bachelor, even at his young age. Tintin lived and worked with many men and rarely sought the company of the fairer sex. This made him wonder if he didn't much care for the company of women, which threw a slew of other questions in to his mind as he sat in panic.

“I...I don't know.” He stated, for it was true. It was not the girl herself he disliked. It was the whole idea of marriage that he scorned. He found himself unable to imagine the type of woman he would be willing to marry. This had always been difficult for him. The idea that he had to marry and produce children had always seemed...awkward and unrealistic.

With that the girl stood up and threw her napkin on the table walking out with her nose in the air, highly offended by his lack of a direct answer. Tintin sighed and paid the bill, walking out not long after her, shoving his hand in his pockets and beginning the walk to the train station. He had planned on staying in the city another evening but now he longed for the green pastures of Marlinspike and the hearty laughter of his dear friend when he told him this story. He could almost hear the captain as he made for the train station at a slow and thoughtful pace.

“I wouldn't of believed it, boy, the only thing that Tintin's afraid of, commitment!” The captain's strong, harsh tone rung in his ears even though the man was far away, comfy and cozy in his hall, no doubt drinking whiskey in front of a roaring fire.

It wasn't entirely true that Tintin feared commitment. He was committed to many things, his dog, Snowy, his causes, his friends, his very dear friends. The captain was one in particular that he was committed to. He stopped in his tracks for a moment to mull that over.

What did it mean when the person you were closest to in the world, the one you would give your life for, would die with if any dying were to happen, was a man? A much older man, though very fine and dignified in his own way. The captain had certainly aged well, his hair still black as night and his eyes giving the only sign that he was perhaps in his late forties.

Tintin shook the thought from his head and began to walk more fiercely, pounding the pavement as he did. It meant nothing, he told himself. These were simply the people he was attached to. He was willing to give much to his friends, being big hearted. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong with him. Perhaps it was just his attachment to the captain that seemed to be nagging at him, his friend who saw him to the moon and back, his friend who always took care of him so well and who never seemed to ask for much in return, following him from Indochina to Peru to any part of the world that the boy sought adventure in. The train station was close and he jogged the rest of the way, trying to escape his own thoughts as he paid for his ticket and found that the next train would be a few hours. He sat on the uncomfortable bench and leaned back into it, cuddling into his trench coat.

Perhaps he did want a relationship. Perhaps he did HAVE one. It was just wasn't the sort others would accept, somehow that stung Tintin. Others were unlikely to accept it. And the captain, what would he think if he knew Tintin was having such thoughts about their friendship? More than likely the captain would laugh at him for letting a simple girl get under his skin.

Still, he couldn't help the thoughts racing through his head, the thought that maybe he did want a romantic relationship and the person he most saw himself gravitating towards, in all cases, was the captain. Tintin sighed, letting his head lull back. There was just one last question.

What was he going to do about it?


	2. Haddock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haddock realizes.

Haddock sat in his favorite arm chair in front of the fire, a bottle half full of his favorite whiskey sat on the table next to him and a roaring fire blazed in front of him. He should have been asleep hours ago, if the whiskey hadn't been enough he also had taken one of his favorite long winded novels off the shelf. His mind would not allow him to sleep. He knew he shouldn't of been letting his mind wander to the boy, he knew that it did no good to worry about Tintin. This particular worry was puzzling as well. Haddock, since gaining his fortune, had had enough invitations from women to dinner to know what had been on the mind of the matron who had invited Tintin to dinner with her family, making sure to proclaim the beauty, poise and intelligence of her daughter. Haddock knew only too well what the woman was up to. He puffed hotly on his pipe, hmmphing as he did, trying to get a handsome, famous, young reporter as a husband for her beanpole of a daughter no doubt. The woman, a petty auctioneer, was trying to pawn off her daughter on any man who happened by. She was just lucky Tintin had been so keen on getting an interview with her husband...at least that was what Tintin had told him. Had Tintin finally been swayed into dating? Haddock dwelled a moment on the idea. The boy had never shown interest in girls, his adventures and his dog had always been enough for him. But he was a healthy young man, why shouldn't he date, why shouldn't he show interest in young girls and stop filling his nights with idle chatter from a salty sea dog and a half deaf old man.

Still the lad shouldn't be forced into anything, and forcing, Haddock grumped, had been exactly what that harpy had in mind, making sure no one else went along with Tintin. Making sure to give the captain an evil glare just to make sure he knew he wasn't welcome.

The boy was too trusting. Didn't he know that he was a catch? Haddock choked for a moment on the smoke from his pipe, the thought that Tintin was a catch halting his thinking. Well, of course, you noticed that Tintin was an attractive young man, Haddock told himself, had to be blind not to see that. The boy was worth more than his weight in gold. He was spirited and adventurous, noble and kind, the perfect sort of man. Haddock felt something stir in the pit of his stomach as he sat there contemplating this, putting his pipe away for the moment so as not to have another accident with it. It wasn't like he found Tintin attractive...was it? He couldn't be sure. Certainly there were things about the boy he admired. Everything about the boy was to be admired, in fact. The boy was everything a woman could want...or a man for that matter. It had been many times, in the course of their adventures in foreign lands, that other men had made such comments, mostly in hushed tones or in bars after Tintin had gone back to the hotel. These men would ask Haddock about their relationship which usually ended with Haddock's fist being buried in the belly of some small minded idiot. It wasn't as if Haddock didn't know that sort of thing went on, men and men, together. He was a sailor and had seen such things happen on a ship after too many months at sea. But he had never gotten involved. Whiskey had been his only lover for a long time. Whiskey was the only consistent thing, until Tintin anyway.

“Blue Blistering Barnacles...” The captain muttered to himself, as realization hit him. It was something that was not unfamiliar; hanging from a rope over a chasm as Tintin struggled to keep them both from falling in. He had felt this realization, this epiphany when he had reached without thinking for the knife in his pocket and went to cut the rope even as Tintin screamed for him to stop. He would have killed himself to save that boy. He'd still do it and would have been happy to do so, all for love for that damnable lad.

“Confusticate it all...” He muttered and stood, the book that had been in his lap slammed onto the floor, jarring him from the action he had been about to take. But he downed a good quarter of the rest of his bottle of Loch Lomond and steeled his will. He was at the door; he didn't really know what he was going to do. Going all the way to the city to get Tintin was crazy. It was a silly notion really, what was he going to tell the boy? What was he going to do to the boy? He felt a burning heat run through him at the thought. He was a dirty old sea dog that was for sure, having such thoughts about the boy, not that he hadn't had them before, late at night cuddled up to the lad as sometimes happened when it was far too cold and the inns or hotels had but one empty room and one bed for them to share. His thoughts on Tintin hadn't always been pure, he reminded himself, but he knew he would never hurt the boy, not for all the world. He faltered as he struggled to pull on his coat and then struggled out of it again. He was just being a drunk...a sad old drunk who couldn't attract a lady, who was just jealous and wanted to keep his boy all to himself. The jacket was yanked on again.

But damnit he loved that boy and he was damned if he was going to let some matron and her bossy daughter take him away. And with that sobering assumption the captain yanked his cap onto his head and went to open the door, only he found that someone was already opening it.

The captain jumped back from the door in surprise as the door opened to reveal the young redhead, his head erect as if he too had just been on some sort of mission. Tintin faltered as he saw the captain standing there at the door, surprise etched into his features, mirroring the captain's expression, as they stood there for a moment. The captain finally broke it by coughing roughly and lowering his eyes to the floor, his face that could be seen beneath his dark beard flushing a brilliant red. Tintin could feel his own face grow hot and turned away as well, closing the door behind him and removing his coat.

“Good evening, Captain, going out for a stroll? Isn't it a little late?” Tintin hadn't checked his watch, he realized, his entire trip home, but he was sure that the captain should have been in bed.

“Yes...no...maybe. I don't know...thundering typhoons, Tintin. I thought you were staying in the city tonight.” The captain finally said, rather gruffly. Tintin turned to look at him with a raised brow, the flush in his cheeks had gone down enough so he felt comfortable facing the captain. 

“Well, I decided to come home. I didn't like the idea of staying any longer than I had to...” Tintin tried to steel his nerves, to give the captain the true reason for his appearance so late in the evening at Marlinspike. But he couldn't find the words at the moment. The captain's ruffled and haggard appearance had him a bit concerned. “Are you feeling all right, captain? You look a bit worse for wear.”

“Oh, oh. I'm fine, lad. What do you mean ‘longer than you had to’, did something happen?” Now it was Haddock’s turn to look concerned over at the lad. 

“Nothing terrible...per say. I just think Ms. DeLise and her mother had…different ideas of how this evening was to go.” Tintin sighed, running a hand through his hair, only quelling the quaff for a moment before it popped back up. 

“I knew that conniving woman had something in mind. So what was it, a romantic dinner for two, when it was supposed to be the entire family?” Haddock guessed. Tintin nodded astounded that the captain could assume so correctly. 

“How did you know?” 

“Well, any one could see that she was looking for a husband for that girl of her’s and you would of fit the bill. Young, successful, famous reporter, handsome to boot. It’s no wonder there isn’t a line out there trampling the professor’s roses.” Haddock huffed, patting his jacket pockets for his pipe, he felt certain he should stop talking now, color rising in his cheeks. Tintin looked up at him and blinked a moment, smiling. 

“Handsome, captain? Do you really think so?” Tintin had never thought much about his looks. He knew he wasn’t horrible looking, but he would have thought average at best. He much preferred the rugged looks of the captain. He was tall and broad. Manly was the adjective he was looking for. Tintin would always be jealous that no matter how hard he tried he would never come close that level of manliness. 

“Well…I uhhh…” The captain struggled for the words. His face was becoming redder and redder. He was now desperate for his pipe so he could at least stop talking. 

“I always thought you were the good looking one, really. But perhaps that is just my preference.” Tintin admitted it in that same truthful manner he had about everything. Haddock stared at him for a moment, pausing in his desperate patting of pockets on her jacket. 

“You…you…prefer me, then?” Haddock wasn't quite sure what the lad was thinking. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, his stomach was doing flip flops and he wasn’t sure he was hearing things correctly. 

“Of course, Captain. In fact…I would go so far as to say that I…really couldn't imagine preferring…anyone else.” Now Haddock was sure he was misinterpreting this. Tintin was standing there in front of him, his posture straight as an arrow, looking up at him and telling him that he preferred HIM, a salty old sea dog of a man, but preferred him for what? 

“I…I’m not sure I understand, lad.” Tintin blushed slightly, losing what little nerve to say these things he had. 

“Never mind, captain. It’s not important. Have a good night...I should check on Snowy and get to bed.” He patted the older man on the shoulder, the only physical contact he allowed himself, fearful he may do more if he didn't move quickly up the stairs and out of sight. 

The captain stood dumbfounded at the base of the stairs unsure of what just transpired. He pondered the situation all the way up the stairs, all the way up to his room and even as he buttoned the last button up on his pajamas. Nothing seemed to make much sense at the moment. He lay down in his bed, hands laid over his torso as he looked up at the ceiling, still trying to figure things out. Nearly half asleep the captain woke with a start, sitting up as a realization hit him like lightening. 

“BLISTERING BARNACLES!”


End file.
